


Outside

by Cruel_Irony



Series: HappyJarryHolidays [1]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, happyjarryholidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruel_Irony/pseuds/Cruel_Irony
Summary: For HappyJarryHolidays Prompt "Outside"James and Harry spend a December evening walking through a Christmas Market.





	Outside

Harry had always loved the German markets at Christmas. No matter where in England you went, they always took up as many streets and town squares as possible, creating a maze you struggled to navigate, never knowing if you’d seen everything or not. They filled him with Christmas spirit. All the festive lights and liberal use of tinsel, the smell of mulled wine and beer, and the happiness and laughter that came from all around.

As a child, he used to hold his mother’s hand as she walked him down the aisles, her grip so tight he feared she might just rip his hand from his arm. Now, seeing the hustle and bustle, the thick press of people, he can understand her fear. He wouldn’t let his child out of his sight in this place.

But now, it’s not his mother’s hand he’s holding. It’s his husband’s. Five years later, and just the thought of calling James his husband brings a childish grin to his face, talking about it makes him squeal in delight. James Nightingale is his husband; together they are Mr and Mr Nightingale. That will never get old.

“Someone’s in a good mood. I didn’t know you liked Christmas so much.” Says James, pulling Harry closer to him. His arm drapes over Harry’s shoulder, while the smaller man hugs the other’s waist. It continues to surprise him how easily they fit together no matter where they are.

“Christmas is nice, makes me feel nostalgic for times when I thought Santa Claus was real. It’s my favourite time of year.”

“You liked the thought of a fat man with awful fashion sense breaking into your house via your chimney? Personally, I’ve never liked that particular part.”

“Ha ha, very funny. But actually I’m not smiling about Christmas.”

James stops them, moving to the side of the pavement, looking down at Harry with a surprising amount of concern in his eyes. Concern that makes Harry’s heart give a little flutter. “Are you not enjoying the market? You’re not getting ill, are you? I thought I heard you sniffling in bed this morning. We can go back to the car if you’re too cold.”

While his worrying and fretting are sweet, Harry can’t help the laugh that comes out, “Stop worrying. I do love Christmas and I love the market. It was a great idea to come here. But I’m smiling right now, because I have the best husband in the world. He’s handsome, intelligent, cunning and so kind to me.” Harry pulls James closer by the lapels of his jacket and leans up for a kiss. He stops just before their lips touch; he feels James’ shuddering breath on his face.

“Oh, yeah. And who is this incredible husband of yours?” A smirk plays on James’ lips. People are beginning to glance their way, but when have they ever cared about that.

“He’s this hot-shot lawyer. Got me off a few times, I might add. And he’s also a very flashy dresser, too.” Harry strokes James tie, tugging James down to his height. The other man goes willingly.

“Tell me more. I might like some of him myself.”

That’s when Harry breaks, his laughter getting the best of him. “Oh, Mr Nightingale, I’m afraid my husband is mine, and I’m not letting him go.”

Harry pulls James into a kiss that is far too obscene for a public place, but no one should be looking anyway. They break apart, both a few degrees hotter and breathing heavily.

James smiles lovingly at Harry, cupping his cheek, “How about we continue this back home, Mr Nightingale?”

Harry loops his arm through James’ and leads him back to where they parked the car. They’ll just have to return to the market next year. And the year after that, and the year after that… and for many more Christmases to come.


End file.
